


On the Utility of Supply Closets

by RosalindInPants



Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Quickies, Sex in a Car, Shower Sex, Spanking, pre-Rome, sex in Wolfe's office, sex in a supply closet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosalindInPants/pseuds/RosalindInPants
Summary: A collection of tales of the unusual places in which Wolfe and Santi have enjoyed each other's company.Chapter 1: After a battle, Santi pulls Wolfe into a closet to celebrate their victory.Chapter 2: After a messy training exercise, Wolfe and Santi have the barracks shower room to themselves.Chapter 3: Wolfe and Santi try spanking for the first time. In Wolfe's office.Chapter 4: Santi takes Wolfe out in a High Garda vehicle for driving lessons, but they find other things to do in the driver's seat.





	1. On the Utility of Supply Closets

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for you dirty, dirty folks on Tumblr who got me thinking about this. You know who you are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a battle, Santi pulls Wolfe into a closet to celebrate their victory.

The Serapeum was secure. Captain Santi had three squads out pursuing the last of the retreating Burners through the streets of Paris while the remainder of his troops patrolled the perimeter and the halls. A few trusted officers were assigned to escort the Serapeum's staff back to their offices and remain with them until the threat was thoroughly eliminated. The Medicas were setting up an infirmary in one of the reading rooms to see to injured soldiers, staff, and civilians. The most important duty, though, was one that Captain Santi reserved for himself.

He would permit no one else to accompany Scholar Christopher Wolfe to inspect the Serapeum's special collections of original books.

Mostly because if anyone else was with them, he wouldn't be able to pull Chris into the first available closet. It wasn't the tightest space they'd stolen away to, but it was close: a narrow room filled with shelves of spare Blanks, lit only by a thin stripe of light around the door once he'd kicked it closed behind them. That was all the light he needed to catch Chris by the wrists and pin him to the only bare wall in the room. Holding Chris's hands against the wall over his head with one hand, he used his other hand to free Chris's hair from the cord that tied it back, and he ran his fingers through the soft black strands of it as their bodies pressed together. They were luckier than Chris probably realized that his hair had been pulled back. Santi could still see the bullet flying past Christopher's ear, right before he'd pulled him behind cover; it would have cut right through his hair if it had been loose. Santi didn't want to think about what that bullet could have done if it had been a few inches further to the right.

"Nic, I-" Chris began, but Santi silenced him with a kiss. There would be a patrol coming down this hall soon enough; Santi had the routes mapped out in his mind, and had planned this strategic retreat down to the minute to ensure that they were not seen. He needed this time together too much to let Chris spoil it with careless talk. Fortunately, his beloved Scholar could do far more with that clever tongue of his than just talk, and Chris seemed more than willing to permit the invasion of his mouth.

Santi kept his lips closed over his lover's until he heard heavy footsteps thump by outside the closet door. When he pulled away, he quickly replaced his mouth with a finger over Chris's lips. Chris's hands struggled to get free of his grasp, but he held them firm against the wall. "Shhh, dear stormcrow," he whispered, right against Chris's ear, "If you can keep quiet, I'll find something better to do with this hand. Would you like that?" He punctuated the question with a light nibble on Chris's ear, then moved his lips down to kiss Chris's neck, nuzzling his hair aside to expose the skin.

Chris nodded, not that he really had to, with the grinding of his hips against Santi's own and the hot panting of his breath against Santi's fingers. His lips parted, not to speak, but to draw Santi's fingers into his mouth, where he swirled his tongue suggestively around them.

Tempting. Very tempting, but not what Santi had in mind. There was neither time for them both to get their pleasure that way nor sufficient privacy for the sounds Chris would make if they did _that_. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand and pulled his hips back just far enough to slide it in between their bodies. He made quick work of unfastening both their trousers enough to pull first Christopher's cock free, then his own, both of them already hard. As Santi wrapped his hand around both their shafts, Chris let out a loud moan, and Santi had to quickly abandon his attentions to his lover's neck to cover that noisy mouth with his own.

Their tongues rubbed together while he began, slowly, to stroke both their cocks. Apparently unsatisfied with the pace, Chris bucked his hips, pulled again at the hand that held his wrists. Leaning one hip into Chris hard enough to hold him still, Santi risked pulling their lips apart long enough to whisper, "Behave yourself, or this hand goes away." For emphasis, he let go of their cocks and brought his hand back up to tangle in his lover's long hair. Without the pressure of his hand, the brush of their cocks against each other teased infuriatingly, too light to truly satisfy. He was counting on Christopher being the more impatient of the two of them.

Chris bit his lip, almost made him yelp at the surprise of it. "That's punishment as much for you as it is for me, dear Nic," he whispered, still squirming his hips as much as he could. He wasn't, Santi noticed, making nearly as serious an attempt to get his hands free.

Santi leaned harder against his beloved, grinding their hips together, trapping their cocks between them so that they rubbed together. Not nearly as pleasing a sensation as what he could do with his hand, but he knew he could get himself off this way, while it wouldn't be stimulation enough for Christopher. He closed his lips over Chris's again and moved his hips in a slow, lazy circle, enjoying the frustrated, and fortunately quiet, whine it drew from his partner.

"So it's to be sword fighting, is it?" Chris pulled away from the kiss to say in a harsh, panting whisper, the look in his eyes giving the lie to the casual sound of his words.

"Yes, and you know I'll win," he replied with another slow circle of his hips. "Ready to be good for me?"

Chris went still, almost limp except for his hard and twitching cock. "Yes. Nic, please -"

Santi closed the distance between their lips and cut off his lover's begging. He pulled his hips back, just enough to return his hand to its place around their erections. He held them there, unmoving, long enough to make Chris whine against his lips, then started stroking at a brisk pace. Much as he'd like to draw this out longer, they would be missed soon, and it wouldn't do to be caught like this by a frantic search party.

There was something about having Chris obedient and helpless in his grasp that always excited, and the urgent whimpers that Chris let out despite his best effort to quiet himself drove Santi to ever-greater heights of arousal, and before long, he shuddered with the force of his climax. He leaned against his partner for a moment, breathing heavily, then let his softening cock go and wrapped his hand tighter around Christopher's still erect shaft to bring him, too, to completion, drinking in the soft moan that accompanied his lover's orgasm.

He released Christopher's hands and cock at the same time, and brought his hand, sticky with the products of their pleasure, to his mouth to lick clean.

"Nic, you're going to make me hard again if you do that," Chris softly groaned, slumped against the wall, his shoulders heaving with each breath.

"Too bad we haven't the time," he whispered, and took out a cloth to wipe the seed first from his hand, then from both their bodies. When he was finished with the cleaning, he gently tucked Chris's cock back into his clothing and buttoned his trousers, then leaned in for a soft kiss while Chris returned the favor.

Footsteps went by in the hall while he ran his fingers through Christopher's hair one last time, then tied it back at the base of his neck. When the sound faded, they opened the door, gave their clothing a final examination in the light of the glows, and hurried to the special collection room before their presence there could be missed.


	2. On the Advantages of Taking the Last Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After training exercises, Santi generously volunteers himself and Wolfe to clean up while the soldiers under his command shower first. Wolfe is irritated... until they get to the empty shower room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For bookloversandscholars - enjoy!

Hauling another crate of practice ammunition back to the storage building, Lieutenant Niccolo Santi looked back over his shoulder at his partner in many things, but at this moment, in cleaning up from his squad's training exercise, Scholar Christopher Wolfe. Lugging a crate much like the one Santi carried, Wolfe looked irritable. He also looked filthy: dust covered him from head to toe, and the slimy green liquid they used to represent Greek fire was splattered over his Scholar's robe and dripping from his long hair. Knowing how much Christopher cared about his hair, and enjoying that hair very much himself, Santi inwardly cringed at the sight. As the Scholar to be defended by the new recruits from the officers playing the role of Burners, Chris had taken the worst of the attacks dished out that afternoon. Santi himself had thrown more than one of those bottles of green slime.

He couldn't hold back when he was training his new soldiers. Not if he wanted them to keep Christopher safe in the field. So far, their respective superiors had been listening to Wolfe's requests to assign them on missions together, but Santi knew that failure on his part could disrupt that arrangement, and if that happened, he would see a lot less of the man he so admired. There were worse things that could come from failure as well, things that he could hardly stand to consider. That meant he couldn't feel guilty for Chris's current condition.

But Santi could make it up to him, which was why he had volunteered himself and Chris to clean up after the training was done while the lower-ranking soldiers headed for the showers. To the soldiers under his command, it was a generous gesture for an officer and a Scholar to take on the grunt work, and it would go a long way toward building loyalty and morale. But there were also significant advantages to being the last ones to the shower room, advantages that he intended to demonstrate to his lover. For one thing, the barracks showers never ran out of hot water.

Chris was glaring at him in stony silence by the time they had the last of the supplies stowed and headed back to the barracks, but Santi kept smiling. He even held the door for his partner, bowing as Chris went through. Sadly, in the process, he missed seeing the look on Christopher's face as he beheld the deserted locker room. He did catch the gasp, though. Chris was a quick thinker, he would recognize the opportunity for what it was.

"You brilliant bastard," Chris said, turning to face him with a grin spreading across his dusty face.

"I thought that was you," Santi replied, retrieving his key from his pocket to lock the door. A significant perk of his rank, having the keys to everything.

"That wasn't the connotation of 'bastard' I intended." Chris laughed as he headed toward his usual spot in the corner of the room, unfastening his messy robe as he walked.

Santi had the advantage of having only a plain, loose shirt, trousers, and boots to strip off, compared to Wolfe, who'd dressed in the professional clothing expected of a Scholar. He also had the advantage of High Garda basic training, which no one survived without learning to get into and out of clothes in a hurry. Chris was still unbuttoning his shirt when Santi tossed his dirty clothes into the communal laundry bin beside the entrance to the shower room.

Arranged in rows along the two long walls and the of the narrow room and the shorter wall at the far end, the showers allowed twenty soldiers to wash at once, provided they didn't mind bumping elbows. Santi walked across the damp tiles to the back of the room, where he turned on the three showers in the corner, angled the shower heads so they all sprayed down on the same spot, and adjusted the temperature until each was equally hot. He'd learned this trick from one of his more mischievous squadmates back in basic training, and had been waiting for the opportunity to put it to its ideal use.

When he turned from arranging the shower heads, Chris was standing in the door of the shower room, a towel wrapped around his hips and a blush reddening his face. Judging by the angle of his gaze, he'd been taking a good look at Santi's ass, and could now see just how excited Santi was about the prospects of sharing the shower with him. Good. If Chris was enjoying the view, Santi didn't have to feel guilty about appreciating the sight before him, and he let his eyes drift slowly over his lovely Scholar. Chris was all lean muscle along graceful limbs, the figure of a dancer, a work of art Santi had sketched from memory more than once after spending the night together. Even caked in dirt with his hair dripping with mock Greek fire, he was a sight to appreciate.

Eyeing the bulge at the front of his lover's towel, Santi grinned. The appreciation, it seemed, was mutual. Reaching behind himself, he found a bottle of shampoo and squeezed a bit of it into his hand, bringing it up to start scrubbing his hair as he said, "Come on in and I'll get yours, too."

Though he could command a lecture hall and send the staff of a Serapeum scurrying in fear of his wrath, Christopher Wolfe turned strangely shy when his clothes came off, and there was a hesitance to his steps as he entered the shower room. Santi had thought when they first started seeing each other that Chris didn't know his own beauty, but that wasn't it. He knew, even took pride in it, particularly that gorgeous hair, but he never quite seemed comfortable with the appreciative attention he received. Still watching Chris out of the corner of his eye, Santi made a show of focusing his attention on his own hair until Chris was at his side, pulling that towel off to leave hanging from the rail along the wall, where it would soon be soaked. Pointless to even bring a towel in - the rail was there for injured soldiers to hold onto - but he wasn't about to point that out while Chris was feeling skittish.

Instead, he offered his hand, and when Chris took it, he pulled his partner into his arms beneath the steady downpour of the showers. Their cocks brushed against each other, making Chris groan while Santi barely kept his composure. "I apologize for subjecting you to such filth," he said, running his fingers through the sticky strands of Christopher's hair. "Let me help get you clean?"

Chris's hand drifted down to Santi's ass to give a gentle squeeze. "I would say that's the least you can do, my dear." He ground his hips against Santi's, ensuring that his meaning was well understood.

Ah, there was his confidence again. "If you've any other requests, do let me know," Santi said, reaching again for the shampoo. It was the basic unscented kind, suited to keeping a soldier's short hair clean, and a poor substitute for the luxurious collection of products Christopher usually favored, but under the circumstances, it would have to do. He squeezed out a generous handful and set to work massaging it into Chris's long hair, working from the scalp down to drive out all of the slimy green mess and sending bubbles coursing down over both of them. Chris leaned his head back to keep the bubbles from his eyes, and Santi took the opportunity to kiss his throat while their soap-slicked bodies slid against each other.

Chris reached past him to grab a bar of soap from the ledge along the wall, and after lathering his hands, he pressed it into Santi's hand. "I'll wash your back if you wash mine?" Without waiting for an answer, he put his hands on Santi's back to scrub in slow circles along the length of his spine.

"I can get more than that, if you like," Santi said, already seeking tense spots on his lover's back with soapy hands. Any excuse to put his hands on Christopher Wolfe's bare skin was a good one. His cock was achingly hard, and Chris was fully erect against him. As both their hands moved lower, Chris's breathing got progressively harsher, and Santi at last gave into impatience and brought a hand between their bodies to wrap around his lover's cock. "Shall I give this a good scrubbing?"

"Hmm." Lazily, Chris rubbed Santi's ass, slipping a wet finger between the cheeks. "Let's wait on that. I'll scrub you first." His other hand gripped Santi's hip, gently turning him.

Santi allowed himself to be turned until he faced the wall. Leaning forward to brace himself against tiles warmed by the spray of the showers, he presented his ass for his lover's attentions. Hot water pounded against Santi's back while Chris kneaded the muscles of his rear with slippery hands, separating the cheeks to let water and the occasional teasing finger run over his sensitive sphincter. Santi groaned. "Chris, please."

"Please what?" Chris asked, his voice gleeful, one finger circling, pressing inward, but not entering.

"Please fuck me." He thrust his hips backward to meet the finger that finally, finally slid into him, curling to put pressure on his prostate until he moaned with need for more.

"Nothing good to use for lubrication here," Chris said, deceptively gentle, "So I'm going to have to take my time loosening you up." He added a second finger, his other hand firm on Santi's hip to hold him still.

He could have fought that hand, had he truly wanted to, bucked his hips and fucked himself on his beloved Scholar's fingers. Even in this vulnerable position, he was stronger than Chris. But there were rewards to patience, and he leaned harder against the wall, biting back his impatient moans while his lover's nimble fingers worked him open, stretching him until three fingers moved in and out easily, and his cock throbbed with every brush of those fingers against his prostate. At this rate, he wasn't going to last long once Chris moved his hand around to the front.

At last Chris removed his fingers and positioned his cock for a slow thrust inward, ending with his body pressed tight against Santi's back and his arms wrapped around to trace the muscles of Santi's chest. "Shall I wash you now?" he asked, drawing his hips slowly back.

"Mmm, yes, there," Santi grunted as Christopher thrust into him again, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through him. "Not... too low... yet." If Chris touched his cock now he was going to explode.

Chris lathered his hands with the soap bar and returned one to Santi's chest while the other moved lower, tracing his abdominal muscles down to his pelvis, stopping with the fingers splayed to either side of his cock. "Tell me when you're ready, my dear," Chris said, pushing in slowly once more. "Or perhaps...  hmm... should I make you wait until I've finished?"

The slow thrusts were driving Santi as mad as the hand just out of reach of his cock. "Just... fuck me, Chris." A harder and deeper thrust, and he gasped out, "Please!"

Chris quickened the pace then, panting hard and groaning as he plunged in hard and deep, digging slippery fingers into Santi's chest. Santi's balls swung with the force of the first few slaps of Chris's skin against his, then pulled in tight against his body as the pleasure built. He was so close, precariously balanced at the edge of oblivion and inching closer each time his lover's cock touched his prostate. He couldn't find the words to tell Chris that now, now was the time for his hand to do its work, because he might fall dead if he had to wait like this another moment. He might have reached his own hand down to finish himself, had he not been leaning so hard on his arms.

Another thrust, and the orgasm tore free from him with a shout of surprise and ecstasy. Chris had made him come more times than either of them could count, but never like this, never without a hand on his cock, and the feeling was so powerful as to be almost painful. A moment later, Chris's hand was there, gentle and slippery, stroking him through the waves of his climax. Wrapped up as he was in his own intense pleasure, he hardly heard Chris's moans as his thrusts quickened until he, too, came, falling against Santi's back in a tight embrace.

Finding the strength in his knees again, Santi turned and pulled Chris into his arms, leaning in for a soft kiss while the warm water flowed over them.

"You've never done that before," Chris said when he'd caught his breath, looking up at Santi with a gleam in his eyes. "I take it my technique is improving?"

Santi laughed and kissed him again. "You were amazing."

He might have been content to spend hours like that, letting the water soothe his hard-working muscles while he held his beautiful Scholar and basked in the afterglow of their passion. But there would be other soldiers coming to shower as more groups finished the day's training, and neither of them wanted to be caught using the shower room for unauthorized activities. Indeed, Santi had only just gotten the door unlocked when another soldier yanked the door open and shoved past him, leading a squad of sweaty, dusty troops into the locker room. The sergeant of the group, bringing up the rear, raised an eyebrow as she saw first Santi, then Wolfe step into the hall. They'd dried off and dressed in a hurry, and between their unkempt clothes and the satisfied look on Wolfe's face, it must have been easy enough to guess why they had been in the shower room alone together.

Santi sighed. He had a feeling he was going to be the subject of much gossip around the barracks. But then Chris put an arm around him, and he decided that he didn't regret a thing.


	3. On the Necessity of Sturdy Desks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A casual conversation in Wolfe's office leads to a mutually enjoyable experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For blessedharlot, source of much inspiration.

"Was I really that difficult to work with?" Wolfe asked, reaching for another chocolate from the box on the desk.

Santi held back a laugh while he gathered up the wrappers from the dinner he had brought to Wolfe's office. He'd started doing this as an occasional surprise for a man he knew worked too much, but it had become first a weekly, then an almost nightly routine. Santi told himself that it was just a way to make sure that Chris was remembering to eat, but he knew he was really coming here each night hoping that they would end up going back to Chris's apartment together after eating. That, too, had been happening more and more often, a development that pleased Santi greatly. "I wouldn't say you're  _that_  difficult," he said as he dropped the wrappers into the garbage. "But you  _did_  have half the officers there talking about how much they wanted to spank some manners into you."

Chris licked chocolate from his fingers, his lips curling upward as he did. "And did _you_?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Santi's heart beat faster. "Did I what?" he asked. Maybe he'd misunderstood. He picked up the bottle of wine from the desk and took a long drink.

"Want to spank me?" No mistaking that tone.

Santi could feel the blood rising to his cheeks. "The thought has crossed my mind, I'll admit." It had done far more than that, but the last thing he wanted to do was frighten Chris off by admitting to how many times he'd jerked off to the thought of spanking the very nice ass beneath those black robes. He knew plenty of soldiers who enjoyed such things, but Scholars were more delicate creatures, and he hadn't yet thought of a good way to broach the subject between them.

Wolfe stood and pushed aside the box of chocolates and the piles of Blanks and papers on his desk and bent over the newly-cleared space, looking over his shoulder with a vulpine grin. "Well? Come on then." In case that wasn't invitation enough, he wiggled his ass, making his Scholar's robe ripple around him.

"You really want me to spank you?" Santi asked, but he was already moving, almost without thought, to stand behind his lover. He took hold of the black robe and pulled it to the side to get a good look at just how well Christopher's trousers fit. His own trousers were beginning to feel tight already at the fantasy coming true before his eyes.

"Nic. Would I be offering if I didn't?"

It was too good an opportunity to pass up. After a quick glance at the door to be certain that it was locked, he pulled down those well-tailored trousers, and the undergarments beneath them, to expose the smooth brown skin of Christopher Wolfe's ass. Santi couldn't resist running his hand over it while he pushed his lover down onto the desk, seizing his hands to pin them behind his back. Chris squirmed against his hold and let out a little whine of frustration, giving another wiggle of that beautiful bottom. Impatient, was he? He looked as eager as he did before sex. Tempting as it was to surprise him with a hard slap, Santi drew back his hand only a little and brought it down lightly, barely more than a tap. It would be best to ease into this.

"Tease," Chris said. "Is that the best you can do?"

Well, then. Santi gave him a good, stern swat, enough to make him gasp. "Better?" he asked, then slapped the other side, just as hard, before he could answer. 

"Yes. Ah!" Chris yelped as the next blow hit, struggling against the hand that held him down.

Santi gave him another few slaps, his palm stinging with each one. "You like this, do you?" He paused to adjust his uncomfortably constrained cock and rub the reddening skin of his lover's backside, drawing a pleased moan. A quick glance downward confirmed that Chris was as hard as he was.

Christopher looked up at him from the desk, grinning again. "Is that all you've got?"

"Not if you're going to take that attitude with me." He put more power into the next few blows, reveling in the little cries Chris let out and the deepening red of his ass, the power his beautiful Scholar had yielded to him. "I'm going to give you ten more," he said, pausing again to give each cheek a good, firm squeeze. "And I'm not going to hold back. Think you can stay quiet, or do I have to shut you up?"

Eyes wide and voice rough with pleasure, Chris asked, "Shut me up?"

Santi scanned the clutter on the desk, still kneading Chris's sore bottom. Nothing suitable caught his eye, so he grabbed a handful of Chris's robe and brought it up to his lover's mouth. "Well? Do we need this?"

Christopher opened his mouth, allowing Santi to stuff the flowing black fabric in until his jaw stretched wide around it. His moan when Santi reached down to squeeze his balls was suitably muffled.

"You look good with your mouth full," Santi observed, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of his pinned and gagged partner. He hadn't planned on going this far, but then, he hadn't thought Chris would look at him with such eager anticipation in such a position. He drew back his hand and brought it down hard enough that the desk shook and Chris shouted into the robe. His eyes looked damp. Santi hesitated with his hand in the air. "Can you take nine more of those?"

Chris gave him a very enthusiastic nod.

Santi didn't stop again through the remaining nine blows, giving only enough of a break between them to count. Chris's muffled cries were at once pained and aroused, and his sides shook with panting breaths by the time Santi struck for the tenth time. His palm burned, but he was sure Chris's ass felt worse. Or perhaps better, judging by the way he moaned when Santi gently rubbed the abused flesh. "How do you feel?" he asked, releasing his lover's hands and pulling the wet and crumpled robe from his mouth.

"Good," Chris said, slurring the word as if drunk, though they hadn't even finished a single bottle of wine. "Very good. Can we fuck now?" Even with his hands free, he remained slumped over the desk, and he gave his ass another suggestive wiggle.

Tempting, with him already positioned like that, but Santi doubted Chris kept any suitable lubricant in his office. Santi wondered what it would be like to thrust into that reddened ass with neither preparation nor lubrication, wondered if Chris would like that, too. Santi thought he would like it himself, if their positions were reversed. He was going to have to work up the nerve to suggest that to Chris.

But for today... he grinned as a rather wicked idea occurred to him. He wrapped his arms around his lover, lifting and turning him so that they faced each other with Chris seated on the edge of the desk, putting their hips at an even level. Chris yelped and squirmed at the touch of hard wood on sore skin, throwing his arms around Santi's neck. Holding Chris steady with one arm, Santi freed his cock with his other hand and moved in to line it up with Chris's, wrapping his right hand around both. "Go on and squirm," he said, sliding his hand along their shafts. "Ought to feel good for both of us."

Chris bit down on Santi's shoulder to quiet a moan while his hips wiggled against Santi's, seeking relief for ass and cock at once. That movement made the smooth and rigid length of him rub against Santi's cock, greatly enhancing the pleasure Santi was giving them with his hand. Already aroused from the spanking, neither of them lasted long. A few strokes of his hand, and Chris was done, and with the moisture added by his ejaculation, Santi followed soon after.

Santi held onto just enough of his mind to pull Chris back into his lap on the nearest chair, weight resting on his thighs so that Santi could rub the soreness from his ass. Or at least, that was the excuse he gave himself for putting his hand on that warm, soft skin.

"That," Chris said, nuzzling Santi's neck, "Was absolutely delightful, and we must do it again."

With a breathless laugh, Santi said, "You wouldn't like to turn the tables on me?" For a terrifying second, he thought Chris would refuse. Most of the soldiers he knew who enjoyed such activities preferred either giving or receiving, not both.

But Chris's eyes lit up, and the grin that spread across his face was, if anything, even wider than when he'd asked to be spanked. "Oh yes, most definitely. But perhaps we had best retire to my apartment? The walls are thicker there, and I have no intention of going easy on you."

 

It proved every bit as enjoyable as he hoped.


	4. On the Proper Handling of Vehicles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Santi takes Wolfe out for a ride in a High Garda transport. It's supposed to be for training, but the sight of a man driving is rather distracting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Scholar May. Who needs to join us over here on AO3.

The day ended with Christopher Wolfe almost as bad a driver as he had been at the start of it, and it was entirely his own fault. Santi's plan for the afternoon had been to take Christopher out to an unused part of the High Garda training grounds and teach him to drive a transport. It would be a useful skill for him to have, they both thought.

Privately, Santi had looked forward to seeing Chris drive. He would be gorgeous with the wind in his long hair and his hands on the controls. The need for space with an inexperienced driver was by no means the only reason Santi brought them out to such a deserted section of the training grounds. What he hadn't counted on was Chris sharing his attraction to the sight of a man driving.

To be fair, he might have stroked the gear shift lever a bit suggestively. He might have driven a little faster than was strictly necessary and taken them along a bumpy course that got the seat rumbling beneath them. But it was Chris who, before they even got to their destination, reached over to unfasten Santi's trousers and reach in.

"So," Chris said, pulling Santi's hardening length free. "I put my hand on the gear shift like this...?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Santi could see his partner's sly grin, and he offered his own grin in response. "Yes. Get a good, firm grip." He was quite content to let Chris handle his shaft the way he was handling the vehicle's. He could drive under fire; a hand on his cock wasn't that distracting.

But when Chris leaned over to take Santi's cock in his mouth, well, that was another matter. It proved a real challenge to get the transport to a suitable parking spot while his lover's tongue flicked against the sensitive spot on the underside of his head. Every bump in the road either pushed him deeper into Chris's throat or bounced his lover's head up and off of his cock, both equally distracting. By the time the transport lurched to a stop and he shifted it into park, Santi was ready for payback.

He took only a moment to admire the sight of his partner, still holding onto the dashboard for support, long hair falling around his face as he brought his head down teasingly slowly. Then he hauled his beautiful and mischievous Scholar up into his lap and pulled aside that long hair to sink his teeth into the back of Chris's neck while his free hand worked to unfasten his partner's trousers. Chris gave him a deliciously surprised yelp and grabbed onto the steering wheel, thrusting his hips upward into Santi's hand while leaning back into the bite.

"You're trouble today, aren't you?" Santi murmured against Christopher's neck.

"Aren't I always?" Chris purred. "What are you going to do about it?"

Santi had a few things in mind, starting with getting access to the parts of Christopher that he most enjoyed. The buttons undone, Santi tugged his lover's trousers down around his thighs. "Shall we see how you like it when it's your cock hanging out?"

Chris was already reaching for his robe to pull it around himself; Santi grabbed the black fabric and twisted it away from Chris's grasp. Chris swatted at his hand. Not too hard, though, and there was arousal beneath the irritation in his voice when he said, "Nic! What if someone comes through here?"

"You didn't seem to care about that before." Keeping a firm grip on the robe, Santi wrapped his free hand around Chris's balls and lightly pulled.

"Ugh. We were moving. That was different. We were going too fast for anyone to see anything."

"I don't know about that. I think you just don't like it when you're the one on display." Santi chuckled and tucked the robe around his lover's lap. Through the black silk, he lightly ran his nails along the length of Christopher's erection. "There, now no one but me will be seeing this."

"Mmm, yes, better to be discrete," Chris said, as if there was anything discrete about the way he was moving against Santi. The brush of a thumb over the head of his cock made him whine, "Nic, please?"

"Please what? Please more of this?" Santi kept up the teasing, enjoying the feeling of his lover's bare ass grinding against his own cock.

Chris looked over his shoulder to meet Santi's eyes with a stern look entirely undermined by the mischief in his eyes. "Please put your cock in me, my dear," he said, keeping his voice even, a little imperious even. "Far more satisfying for both of us, don't you think?"

"Oh, I don't think you're in any position to be making demands," Santi said, but he took his hand off his partner to fish out the little bottle of oil he'd put in his pocket for this exact purpose. He put his other hand under Chris's bottom and lifted. "Going to need you to pick that ass up for a minute, unless you want me to fuck you dry."

Obediently, Chris picked up his hips, draping himself over the steering wheel while Santi opened the bottle and poured its slippery contents into his palm. Rubbing the oil over his cock with one hand, he used the other hand to flip Chris's robe up, exposing his ass. Chris squirmed, whether from embarrassment or an attempt to rub his cock against the wheel, Santi wasn't sure, and Santi took his time admiring the sight while he very thoroughly lubricated himself. Giving Chris's ass a squeeze, he asked, "Need my fingers?"

Chris sighed with exaggerated impatience. "I need your cock.  _Now._ "

Santi took hold of Chris's hip with one hand and slowly guided him into position, lining himself up with the tight ring of his partner's entrance. The touch of skin to sensitive skin sent a jolt of need through him, but he held himself there, savoring the anticipation and the sight of his flustered lover.

"Someone is going to see us," Chris groaned, sinking down into Santi's lap. Onto his cock. The robe fell back down, draping around to hide the joining of their bodies, but he still looked thoroughly indecent there, arms braced against the steering wheel while his hips moved to a rhythm even a cloistered monk would recognize. For all his grumbling about the risks of being seen, Christopher was hard and dripping when Santi reached beneath the robe with his lubricated hand, and his moan of pleasure at the touch drowned out the hiss of the transport's steam engine.

"I'm starting to think you want to be seen." Santi thrust his hips upward as Chris moved down again, penetrating deep and drawing a groan from his lover.

"Nonsense," Christopher said, barely able to catch his breath to speak.

There was no need to continue the argument. Chris's body argued well enough against his own words, thrusting onto Santi's cock with the abandon of a man who had no care for who might notice him riding there so long as he was striking his prostate just the right way. Santi got a good, firm grip on Chris's shaft and leaned back into the seat to luxuriate in the view and the sensation.

Black silk rippling over lean muscles. Tight, slippery heat around his most sensitive flesh. Long hair flying around a head thrown back. A hard, throbbing rod slipping through the circle of his hand. The soft vibration of the engine beneath them. Whimpers, moans, and sharp breaths that rose and merged into a cry that began in desperation and ended in satisfaction.

Santi had planned to get his hand positioned to catch his lover's ejaculation, but when it came, he was so close to coming himself that it was all he could do to hold on while Chris thrust himself over the edge. Chris kept up the pace even while he shook with the force of his orgasm, and that was enough to push Santi over as well. He wrapped Christopher in his arms while the climax rolled over him, and held him while they both caught their breath.

Chris was the first to move. With a soft sigh, he sat up and looked down, shaking his head. "I don't suppose you brought something to clean this up with?"

"I brought lubrication, didn't I?" Santi pointed out, taking two handkerchiefs from his jacket pocket and passing one to Chris. More gently than before, he lifted his partner's bottom to wipe him clean, and helped him get his trousers back in place before cleaning himself up.

Chris shifted back into the passenger seat and leaned across Santi's knees to examine the panel beneath the steering wheel. "Must there be so many rivets in this thing? Makes it hard to clean," he grumbled, wiping at a spot just out of Santi's line of sight with the handkerchief.

Santi laughed and ran his fingers through the dark tangles of his lover's hair. "Shouldn't have shot your load all over it, then."

Chris threw the dirty handkerchief at him. "Oh, hush. I don't recall you objecting to any of it."

"Not in the least," Santi said, and pulled him in for a soft and lingering kiss. "Ready for your turn in the driver's seat?" he asked when they parted.

"Hmm." Chris looked over the controls, assessing. "I'll expect very personal instruction on all of this."

"What else am I here for?" Santi said with a smile, and kissed him again.

By the time they brought the vehicle back to the garage, they'd used it for more unauthorized activities than authorized ones, and Christopher still could hardly steer it. Santi couldn't say he was sorry to have to put himself on the list to sign it out again in a week's time. He would gladly provide as many driving lessons as his partner needed.


End file.
